The Traitor's Escape

Chapter Eleven

This has to be the best way to wake to wake up, Sansa decided, her head thrown back in pleasure and her thighs clenched tightly around Sandor's hips as she rocked against him. Each push, timed with his thrusts, drove him deeper inside of her and brought her closer to her finish. She could hardly stifle the moans that threatened to spill from her mouth, especially not while he nipped at her throat like this -

After a particularly hard thrust, Sandor growled against the hollow of her throat, his fingers tightening onto her hips to drive harder into her, and then he latched onto a pert nipple. She cried out, digging her fingers into his hair, and clenching tighter onto his manhood. Her legs shook with the effort to drive forward, so desperate to finish, but wanting to hold off, until Sandor could come too. He had to be close... His thrusts were rapidly picking up, taking her closer and closer...

"Sandor!" she squeaked suddenly, her blue eyes opening wide when he reached down and brushed a knuckle against her button. "I'm going to-" His touch was her downfall because she was there, shattering apart, waves of pleasure crashing over her so intensely she could hardly believe it and her inner walls fluttering around his manhood so tightly it almost ached. He stifled her moans with his mouth, drawing out her completion, and driving hard three more times into her tight depths until he finished. She would have collapsed if it wasn't for Sandor's arms securely around her waist.

Once her ability to think returned, Sansa pressed a soft kiss to Sandor's lips and tucked her head down against his chest.

The wonderful haze she had been in drizzled away slowly, leaving in its absence a feeling of emptiness and disappointment. The ex-knight seemed to feel it too, but he didn't say a word. It wasn't necessary because they both knew what was coming next. The sun hadn't quite risen yet, but in the far horizon the first rays of light were peeking out. In the room, everything was warm and she felt sated and safe, but it wasn't easy to forget what was coming; so very soon Sandor would be leaving her.

Sansa finally admitted in the silence, "I wish I wasn't so selfish." Sandor tensed beneath her.

"Little Bird," he warned, ready to argue with her, but she barely heard him.

"I want you to stay." Her finger traced one of his larger scars on his chest through the dusting of curling hair. "But I need you to go."

"And I told you-"

"What if something happens?" she interrupted, unable to look at his expression. "What if the Tyrells fall under attack and you are injured or worse? If you never came home, I don't think I could stand it. I would never be able to look at our child's face and tell him that I was the reason you died."

"I'll come back. Even if I have to leave those fuckers to die by themselves and come steal you away before the cunt Willas would have a chance to do anything, I will be back."

She lifted her head, pressed her lips to his throat, and murmured quietly, "Do whatever you can to be safe." She felt a small stir in her little bump and, with a gentle smile, she lay her hand near the area she had felt the movement. The movements were getting stronger and some days Sansa was certain the baby was kicking. "Maester Lomys said any day now you should be able to feel the baby move. That could happen any time."

"Perhaps on my return there'll be a chance," he said, tightening his arm around her. She scooted up so that she could kiss his mouth. Sandor responded hungrily, shifting her enough that she was flush against him. More than anything, Sansa wished she could get lost in his touch again, to be swallowed by her feelings of affection and love, and not think of what was coming far too soon. But a glance at the window and the impending light told her there was no such luck.